Its been 3 months now since we stopped talking, and I know that the fabrication of you all ive made in my head will be with me. But the yearning is immense. I fall asleep wishing to wake to a reality where thigns could have worked out. That I was stronger then the disease. Watching how it decays my life right now though makes me glad you cant be around me. Even if I wish you could just so you could choke me. So I could see the passion no matter the feeling behind it. Would you kill me? If I asked and begged? Would you understand that im an animal reaching my limit? Youve said before life is just the perception you make it to be. But the idea of manifesting the disease itself from myself is worse then it jsut already being here removing the people who dont belong. Thinkign that its made from my own creation implies that I have been infact degrading my own life away even when its been out of my own hands. The universe has no plans for me other then to usher me faster to my death. Ive been trying not to daydream of life beyond 30. everytime i do its sad, its filled with blood. He calls me by the other name and I lose it entirrely.